ever before, policing up sticks
that had flown wide before and chucking them onto the pile around
the tree. That was less work than gleaning the woods for deadwood.
The nearby forest was stripped as clean as parkland.
Smeds thought it looked like they could set the fire any day
now. In places the woodpile was fifteen feet high and you
couldn’t see the tree at all.
What was Tully up to? This whining and giving up fit in with his
behavior since their dip in the river, but the timing was suspect.
“We’ll be ready to do the burn any day aow. Why not
wait till then?”
“Screw it. It ain’t going to work and you know it.
Or if you don’t you’re fooling yourself.”
“You want to go home, go ahead. I’m going to stick
it out and see what happens.”
“I said we’re going home. All of us.”
Right, Smeds thought. Tully was cranking up for a little screw
your buddy. “What you want to bet you come up outvoted three
to one, cousin? You want to go, go. Ain’t nobody going to
stop you.”
Tully tried a little bluster, coming on like he thought he was
some kind of general.
“Stuff it, Tully. I ain’t no genius, but just how
dumb do you think I am?”
Tully waited a little too long to say, “Huh? What do you
mean?”
“That night you went chickenshit and run off to the river
on us. I got to thinking about how you done that to me before. You
ain’t going to pull it on me this time, Tully. You
ain’t taking off with the spike and leaving old Smeds
standing there with his thumb up his butt.”
Tully started protesting his innocence of having entertained any
such thoughts. Smeds watched Timmy Locan throw sticks. He ignored
Tully. After a while he watched Fish approach from the direction of
the town. The old man was carrying something over his shoulder.
Smeds couldn’t make out what it was. He hoped it was another
of those dwarf deer like the old man had got a couple weeks back.
That had been some good eating.
Timmy spotted Fish. He lost interest in his sticks, wandered
over.
It wasn’t a deer Fish had, it was some kind of bundle that
clanked when he dropped it in front of the log. He said,
“Smell’s gone over there. Thought I’d poke
around.” He opened his bundle, which he had folded from a
ragged blanket. “Those guys didn’t take time out to
loot when they went through over there.”
Smeds gaped. There were pounds and pounds of coins, some of them
even gold. There were rings and bracelets and earrings and broaches
and necklaces and some of them boasted jewels. He’d never
seen so much wealth in one place.
Fish said, “There’s probably a lot more. I just
picked up what was easy to find and quit when I had as much as I
could carry.”
Smeds looked at Tully. “And you wanted to cut out because
the whole thing was a big bust.”
Tully looked at the pile, awed. Then his expression became
suspicious and Smeds knew he was wondering if Fish had hidden the
best stuff where he could pick it up later. Typical Tully Stahl
thinking, and stupid.
If Fish had wanted to hold out he would have just hidden the
stuff and not said anything. Nobody would have known the
difference. Nobody was interested in that town. Nobody even wanted
to think about what happened there.
“What’s this?” Fish asked, glancing from Tully
to Smeds.
Smeds said, “He was whining about how the whole thing was
a big damned bust and he was sick of it and wanted us to go home.
But look here. Even if we don’t have no luck with the tree we
made out like bandits. I could live pretty good for a good long
time on a share of this.”
Fish looked from Tully to Smeds and back again. He said,
“I see.” And maybe he did. That old man wasn’t
anybody’s fool. He said, “Timmy, you got a good eye for
this kind of thing. Why don’t you separate that out into
equal lots?”
“Sure.” Timmy sat down and ran his hands through the
coins, laughing. “Anybody see anything he’s just got to
have?”
Nobody did.
Timmy was good. Not
that had flown wide before and chucking them onto the pile around
the tree. That was less work than gleaning the woods for deadwood.
The nearby forest was stripped as clean as parkland.
Smeds thought it looked like they could set the fire any day
now. In places the woodpile was fifteen feet high and you
couldn’t see the tree at all.
What was Tully up to? This whining and giving up fit in with his
behavior since their dip in the river, but the timing was suspect.
“We’ll be ready to do the burn any day aow. Why not
wait till then?”
“Screw it. It ain’t going to work and you know it.
Or if you don’t you’re fooling yourself.”
“You want to go home, go ahead. I’m going to stick
it out and see what happens.”
“I said we’re going home. All of us.”
Right, Smeds thought. Tully was cranking up for a little screw
your buddy. “What you want to bet you come up outvoted three
to one, cousin? You want to go, go. Ain’t nobody going to
stop you.”
Tully tried a little bluster, coming on like he thought he was
some kind of general.
“Stuff it, Tully. I ain’t no genius, but just how
dumb do you think I am?”
Tully waited a little too long to say, “Huh? What do you
mean?”
“That night you went chickenshit and run off to the river
on us. I got to thinking about how you done that to me before. You
ain’t going to pull it on me this time, Tully. You
ain’t taking off with the spike and leaving old Smeds
standing there with his thumb up his butt.”
Tully started protesting his innocence of having entertained any
such thoughts. Smeds watched Timmy Locan throw sticks. He ignored
Tully. After a while he watched Fish approach from the direction of
the town. The old man was carrying something over his shoulder.
Smeds couldn’t make out what it was. He hoped it was another
of those dwarf deer like the old man had got a couple weeks back.
That had been some good eating.
Timmy spotted Fish. He lost interest in his sticks, wandered
over.
It wasn’t a deer Fish had, it was some kind of bundle that
clanked when he dropped it in front of the log. He said,
“Smell’s gone over there. Thought I’d poke
around.” He opened his bundle, which he had folded from a
ragged blanket. “Those guys didn’t take time out to
loot when they went through over there.”
Smeds gaped. There were pounds and pounds of coins, some of them
even gold. There were rings and bracelets and earrings and broaches
and necklaces and some of them boasted jewels. He’d never
seen so much wealth in one place.
Fish said, “There’s probably a lot more. I just
picked up what was easy to find and quit when I had as much as I
could carry.”
Smeds looked at Tully. “And you wanted to cut out because
the whole thing was a big bust.”
Tully looked at the pile, awed. Then his expression became
suspicious and Smeds knew he was wondering if Fish had hidden the
best stuff where he could pick it up later. Typical Tully Stahl
thinking, and stupid.
If Fish had wanted to hold out he would have just hidden the
stuff and not said anything. Nobody would have known the
difference. Nobody was interested in that town. Nobody even wanted
to think about what happened there.
“What’s this?” Fish asked, glancing from Tully
to Smeds.
Smeds said, “He was whining about how the whole thing was
a big damned bust and he was sick of it and wanted us to go home.
But look here. Even if we don’t have no luck with the tree we
made out like bandits. I could live pretty good for a good long
time on a share of this.”
Fish looked from Tully to Smeds and back again. He said,
“I see.” And maybe he did. That old man wasn’t
anybody’s fool. He said, “Timmy, you got a good eye for
this kind of thing. Why don’t you separate that out into
equal lots?”
“Sure.” Timmy sat down and ran his hands through the
coins, laughing. “Anybody see anything he’s just got to
have?”
Nobody did.
Timmy was good. Not
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